


Back against the wall

by Lady_Aki



Series: Rosal'in & Solas EN [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Age Difference, Cunnilingus, Deepthroating, Dirty Talk, Dom Solas (Dragon Age), Dom/sub, Dom/sub Play, F/M, Light Dom/sub, Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Smutty Literature, Spanking, Sub Lavellan (Dragon Age), Teacher/Student Roleplay, Teasing, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:07:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24790588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Aki/pseuds/Lady_Aki
Summary: Rosal'in Lavellan is a studious and conscientious woman, but she's also fond of erotic literature. Tonight, she has no desire to study. While she's reading one of her favourite erotic novels, Solas catches her in the act.
Relationships: Female Inquisitor & Solas, Female Lavellan/Solas
Series: Rosal'in & Solas EN [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1722640
Comments: 14
Kudos: 69





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Dos au mur](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24790459) by [Lady_Aki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Aki/pseuds/Lady_Aki). 



> This little writing only took me a day, I just wanted to write something naughty with Solas... So I apologize in advance for any mistakes (english isn't my mother tongue by the way). Don't look for anything deep here, it's just to excite the senses ;)

It was a quiet evening, a rare thing in Skyhold. Everyone was serenely busy with his task with the utmost care, from the stable boy to the Herald of Andraste in person. At least, that was the impression the Inquisitor Lavellan gave to those who went to the library at this time of night.  
  
Rosal'in had taken advantage of Dorian's departure to abandon the imposing solid wood study table on which she had been studying for several hours in favour of the red velvet chair that the magister occupied daily. Moreover, the study table wasn’t the only thing she had left behind during her migration. Curled up comfortably against the armchair, her bare feet resting on the seat, she was reading one of the famous novels of the writer Catherine Morland. Although she was best known for her cloak-and-dagger novels, in which demons and swordsmen occasionally mingled, her later works tended to pay homage to the sentimental literature of her mother's native kingdom, Antiva.   
  
The Andrastian messiah had taken care to hide the cover of her book with the help of a second work, the _Tales of the Destruction of Thedas_ by the Chantry scholar Brother Ferdinand Genitivi. While her faithful admired with pride and reverence the conscientiousness of their guide, she blushed and agitated discreetly and with impunity before the incredible adventures of Miss Viniciana and Monseigneur Desjardins. All had been fooled by the clever subterfuge staged by the Dalish girl. At least almost all of them.   
  
As Solas silently wandered through the various shelves in search of a Tevinter treaty about the manifestations of the Fade and their consequences on the environment, his attention was caught by a familiar giggle. Cautiously, he leaned slightly towards the noise, half hidden by the bookcase in front of which he was standing. Where usually stood in a distinguished and almost haughty manner a tevintide mage that he could barely stand was curled up Rosal'in. A heavy manuscript that the apostate knew very well rested on her lap. He had had the opportunity, not long ago, to read the works of Brother Genitivi. Remarkably erudite, but deadly dull.   
  
A slight exclamation of surprise escaped from the young woman's vermeil lips as her cheeks took on a pleasant pinkish hue. She promptly placed a hand in front of her mouth to hide her emotion. She obviously seemed pleasantly surprised by her reading. Solas watched her for a brief moment, confused, before he realized that the pages of the Chantry scholar work remained motionless, even when he heard her turn a page.  
  
He skillfully put the book he was leafing through back in its place, and then approached Rosal'in with a wolf's pace and a grin on his face.   
  
“It's rare to see you studying so late, vhenan. Your studiousness is to your credit.”   
Rosal'in slightly startled at the sound of her teammate's voice, presumably caught off guard.   
“Oh- Emma lath! I didn't hear you coming...”   
  
With his hands behind his back, the mage bent down to pretend to read the title of the book and then looked into the emerald irises of the inquisitor.   
  
“Brother Genitivi seems to have you on the edge of your seat.”   
  
“Yes, he- His travels are quite exciting.”   
  
Rosal'in put one of her blonde curls back behind her ear and looked away. She had never excelled in the art of lying.   
  
“Isn't it? The chapter on Dalish morals and customs is remarkable both for its accuracy and its richness.”   
  
Rosal’in discreetly pursed her lips. She hadn't gotten past the introduction. She took a deep breath and then renewed the eye contact she had deliberately interrupted because of her embarrassment.   
  
“Indeed, it can be said that this is an exceptional testimony.” she asserted with a shy smile.   
Solas took two steps forward, inexorably reducing the distance between them.  
  
“Do you agree with what he said? He’s particularly virulent towards the Dalish, even disrespectful. "He subtly raised his hand towards the work. "Let me show you the passage I'm referring to.”   
  
In no time at all, the apostate stole the little book that Rosal'in had been trying to hide for several hours. The young woman straightened herself up immediately, letting the old manuscript fall into total indifference.   
  
“Solas! Give me back that book!” she whispered so as not to draw attention to them.   
Aware of her smallness, she began to climb on the armchair to try to take back what her companion had just stolen from her without any scruples. When Solas turned her back to examine the object that aroused his curiosity, she knew that her maneuver had failed and that she would have to face the consequences of her actions.   
  
“ _The impertinent Miss Viniciana_ by Catherine Morland. Here's a book that certainly doesn't deal with your subjects of study...” He immediately began to leaf through the book, first reading a few passages here and there before turning his attention to the page where the inquisitor had stopped. “Oh, vhenan. I didn't know you were fond of erotic literature. "A small, clear laugh crossed his lips as he turned to face a Rosal'in whose cheeks matched the crimson colour of the armchair on which she had resigned herself to sit again. “Does Cassandra know about this?”  
  
At first, Rosal'in didn't bother to answer him. With her arms folded across her chest, she looked both upset and embarrassed. Solas was indeed the last person she wanted to be told about her lewd literary tastes. She didn't want him to see her as a young woman with dissolute morals when their relationship was about to take shape.   
  
“Don't make fun of me.”   
  
The rift mage placed the book on the armrest of the armchair and then tenderly took hold of his lover's cheek so that she could look at him.   
  
“That was not my intention. I apologize if my words led you to believe otherwise. Your reactions simply piqued my curiosity.”   
  
He leaned towards the young woman, his lips at the level of her ear.   
  
“I just wanted to know how Brother Genitivi managed to make you blush so easily.” His fingers grazed her cheekbone in a fleeting caress. “But it would seem that the credit belongs rather to Monseigneur Desjardins.”  
  
A pleasant warmth rose within Rosal'in's chest while Solas' deep and calm voice whispered in the hollow of his ear some gallantry.   
  
“I must confess that I feel somewhat aggrieved. I would never have thought that an Orlesian, though fictitious, could seduce you.”   
  
It was the turn of the chosen of Andraste to laugh. A frank and joyful laughter, barely stifled.  
  
“And what are you going to do, emma lath? Ask for reparation?” A second laugh escaped her, this time more discreet, followed by a small mischievous smile.   
  
“Precisely.”   
  
As she was about to tease him again, a hand slipped around her waist and lifted her up. Without further ado, her eldest claimed her lips in a kiss inviting voluptuousness. He kissed the delicate curves of her mouth with lascivious devotion, drawing out whines of pleasure which he was careful to silence as soon as he heard them. No one else was allowed to hear the sweet moans of his inquisitor as he made her lose her mind in the hollow of his arms.   
  
Taking advantage of their sudden promiscuity, Rosal'in freed herself from the grip of Solas' lips to passionately embrace the salient curve of his jaw. She then felt his hands grow bolder, lingering on her generous hips for a long time before grabbing her buttocks in a gesture of obvious dominance that wrenched a new moan of pleasure from her.   
  
“Solas... The soldier-”   
  
“He just left.”   
  
As his full lips ventured into the hollow of her neck, biting the creamy skin within their reach, the mage grabbed his companion's thighs and lifted her up to the level of his pelvis. Rosal'in instinctively tied her legs around his waist, as if she had been struck with frenzy by the boldness that Solas had just shown.   
  
Her back soon hit the wall next to the armchair, shattering what little restraint she had left. She shockingly cambered herself against the apostate who was far too busy unbuttoning her blouse to notice that the Dalish woman's desire had materialized between her thighs and was slowly flowing down her ass, barely covered by her long camel skirt which was now dangerously tucked up.   
  
Dazed with voluptuousness, she tried in vain to pull on her skirt to hide this sight of pure debauchery from a potential visitor. As soon as he noticed it, Solas took her hands and placed them above her head. The grip on his wrists was firm but gentle, a way of letting her know that her role as a submissive depended solely on her own will.   
  
A cheeky smile appeared on Solas' lips as one of his hands began to stroke Rosal'in's soaked ass.   
  
“If I'd known you were more sensitive to brutality than gentleness, I would have taken you against a wall a long time ago.” He whispered as his tongue traced the tip of her ear, pressing his erection against her ass. “Isn't that what you want, unless I'm mistaken? To be savagely taken against a wall like a whore. At least that's what your reading suggests.”   
  
His words made her tremble with apprehension and arousal. A mere brief reading of some dirty novel had given him a better grasp of her fantasies than any of her former suitors. She nodded her head before she realized he was waiting for a verbal answer.   
  
“Ye- Yes.”   
  
Her answer was brief, expeditious. She'd never indulged her fantasies before. She didn't know how to go about it.   
  
“Good.”   
  
Against all odds, he kissed her forehead tenderly and then laid her down carefully on the ground, leaving her even more confused than she already was.  
  
“...Solas? I don't get it. Is something wrong?”   
  
Her tone was hesitant, her voice slightly trembling, fearing the answer he was going to give her. Her desires were perhaps too degrading for him. But if so, why would he have put so much ardour and taken so much pleasure in playing with her fantasies?   
  
“As appealing as the idea of taking you against a wall is, vhenan, I prefer to do it in a more intimate place.” He took one of her hands and then kissed it deferentially. "I'm afraid I'm not as bold as Monseigneur Desjardins.” He punctuated his tirade with a cocky grin.   
  
The inquisitor rolled her eyes, falsely irritated, but definitely delighted by the turn of events.  
  
“So, your room or mine?”   
  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, here is the sequel that many have asked me for! Writing this chapter took me a lot of time, it was the first time I wrote this kind of smut. The tone is different from the first chapter because of the time it took me to write it, but I hope you like it!

**  
** After careful consideration, the Inquisitor's room had seemed more suitable for their purposes. The apostate's room was too narrow and one couldn't step into it without colliding with a book, a parchment or any other object dedicated to the study of the Fade. Thus they had discreetly slipped away from the library to reach the throne room before reaching the dilapidated wing leading to the quarters of the Herald of Andraste, under the amused gaze of the few soldiers charged with keeping watch. In the early morning, their amorous escapade would be on everyone's lips in Skyhold.   
  
No sooner had the massive wooden door closed on them than Rosal'in felt two powerful hands grasping her hips. The next moment her cheek touched the rough, cold stone of the adjacent wall.   
  
"Tell me, would the corridor suit you, Inquisitor? " Solas' voice was a murmur, subtle but hoarse, caressing the tip of her ear with his warm breath.   
  
She bit her lip to hold back a moan of excitement. Any wall would suit her. "...Yes."   
  
A small laugh was heard.   
  
"So impatient... as always. "His grip on her hips became firmer as he moved her a few steps away from the wall. "Bend over. " Slowly he slid one of his hands along her spine. The pressure on it was light, but firm, causing her to bend on her own.   
  
Before performing, Rosal'in took a deep breath to soothe her senses, which now responded only to the most primary wishes of her desire. She laid both palms flat on the wall and then bent down in the way humans liked to imagine Dalish women. In an obscene and demeaning way.   
Solas' hands tightened for a few moments. The position she had just adopted seemed to have shaken his illustrious restraint. As he pressed her body against his own, perfectly following the curve of her back, his breathing became jerkier. The hardness of his erection against her buttocks betrays once again the carnal euphoria that the mage was experiencing.   
  
"I must confess that I didn't expect you to be so cooperative. " His lips delicately traced the curve of her jaw before coming to deposit a shower of kisses in the hollow of her neck. "At least not as quickly..." He firmly grasped her braid to reach her throat, while his second hand left her hip to roll up her skirt. A groan escaped Rosal'in as he pulled her hair.   
  
Solas paused before placing his hand between her thighs. "How long have you been waiting for this, Rosal'in? "   
  
"... Since- " She stiffened when she felt him pull her panties down. " ... Since we met. "   
An amused grin appeared on the apostate's lips. "That wasn't my question..." He gently stuck his teeth into the soft flesh of her neck, drawing out a new lament of pleasure. "How long have you wanted to be dominated? "  
  
The Dalish closes her eyelids for a few moments to try to provide a coherent and intelligible answer to her lover. To tell the truth, she didn't know when her fantasies had taken such a turn. Hadn't they always been like this? Couldn't we have detected behind her teenage mawkishness a nascent propensity for submission? Her self-imposed near-abstinence made her thinking useless. She knew nothing about the practices she fantasized about. Nevertheless, she was sure of one thing: until now, none of her partners had been able to see beyond the image she deliberately painted of her as a Dalish with respectable morals.   
  
In the face of his companion's obvious hesitation, the attentions lavished by Solas became more chaste, as if stripped of all lasciviousness. His affection for her had briefly overcome the ardour that inflamed both his loins and his reason. "Stop tormenting yourself with your questions, _ma lath_. "The tip of his nose surreptitiously touched hers. "Let yourself go to your desires. " He grasped her chin and forced her to look at him. "Drop that mask you wear for fear of judgment. "   
  
Despite her embarrassment, Rosal'in didn't look away. Her cheekbones pink with shyness, she accentuated the pressure her buttocks were exerting against her elder's crotch before whispering her supplication against her lips. " _Ghi’las em (teach me), Hahren..._ "   
  
No sooner had his plea reached his ears than he immediately captured the fleshy mouth of his young lover with a suave, languid kiss, sucking and biting her lips, which had been reddened by his previous assaults. While he strove to make her ahaner of lust, his hand continued to explore her crotch. She was so wet that when his fingers penetrated her, they met no resistance. An exclamation of surprise and delight immediately crossed the threshold of Rosal'in's lips, bringing a mischievous smile to the mage's face. As his index and middle fingers began a long, deep back and forth movement, the Inquisitor was soon unable to contain her pleasure any longer.   
  
" _Ra sildeara on (it feels good), da'len_?" He whispered against her cheek while delicately tracing the curve of her lower lip with his thumb. " So tight... _Isalan pala na (I want to fuck you)_. "   
  
Her hands suddenly tightened at the understanding of such pleasantly obscene words, her nails scraping the age-old stone in a shrill squeal as she let out a high-pitched moan from her throat again. Only his voice could have brought her pleasure. At least that's what she thought until he slid his thumb into her mouth with impunity, skilfully stimulating her tongue with dexterous caresses. Her reaction was immediate, no sooner had he touched her tongue than she began to suck his finger fervently, adding to the scandalous echoes of her wet flesh those of her mouth. The almost grunt that Solas immediately uttered made her shudder. A shiver of apprehension and desire ran up and down her spine, fanning the blazing fire in the hollow of her loins.   
  
" _On da'lan (good girl),_ I wonder if you'd suck my cock with such appetence..." He began a series of more brutal movements, arching his fingers to stimulate the sensitive area of her femininity.  
  
Overwhelmed by a myriad of new sensations brought on by her mentor's skilful fingering, Rosal'in's legs quivered under her own weight. One of her hands carefully grasped the mage's neck to prevent her from falling. By the Creators, his fingers were undeniably dexterous. He knew exactly what he was doing.   
  
"So- Solas! I- " Her words jostled on her lips in an indescribable litany of feverish laments. She had just unconsciously provided him with an angle of penetration conducive to the most delicious debauchery. Her tender flesh tightened convulsively around his fingers, heralding her imminent orgasm. She had never felt anything like this with her previous conquests. Like a virtuoso accustomed to the most daring instrumental practices, Solas wielded her body with disconcerting ease, extracting notes from it that she had hitherto been unaware of. Not without remorse, the musician freed his thumb from the grip of her lips and tongue to caress her hardened nipples. " _Hah- Hahren, sathan... (please_ )".   
  
"What do you want, _Vhenan_? " He slowly rolled a small pink nipple between his fingers, barely concealed beneath a white silk blouse. "You are about to come, aren't you? "His teeth brushed against the tip of her ear. "You are already dripping down my arm as we have only just begun..." He nonchalantly drew the delicate curve of her ear with his tongue, savouring the floral fragrance emanating from her amber hair. "So intoxicating... I wonder what you taste like."   
  
A languid groan betrayed the greedy concupiscence that Solas' fantasy had both awakened and set ablaze. This ardent concupiscence was familiar to the young Inquisitor since her first encounter with the apostate. Despite her relative guilt, Rosal'in had always been magnanimous in dealing with passions she seemed unable to control. To her chagrin, the rift mage seemed to be one of them. Thus she had quickly stopped counting the nights during which she had abandoned herself to the emeritus call of nature to satisfy a primary impulse that her status as the Chosen of Andraste no longer seemed to allow her. She didn't know how many times the mere thought of her beloved's face between her thighs had made her come, but what she was certain of was that she had never so ardently desired a man. "So shut up and satisfy your curiosity... "   
  
No sooner had her order crossed the threshold of her lips complicit in immorality than her back struck the steep stone of the fort again. Solas' face, usually imbued with a remarkable peacefulness, was now subject to the same torments that had forced the Inquisitor to grant him without a moment's hesitation the temple that sheltered her soul. He stared at her for a brief moment, his azurean irises filled with a covetousness and greed usually reserved for any subject relating to the Fade, before beginning to unbutton her blouse with adroitness. As he was unbuttoning it, he subtly brushed the diaphanous skin of her breasts, making her shiver with his enamoured touch. Solas’ gestures were impregnated with a calculated, methodical slowness, as if he was analysing the slightest of her reactions with particular attention.   
  
As he explored her chest with an almost scholastic attention, his hands were soon joined by his eager mouth. The corners of his lips rose into a carnivorous smile as his gaze met that of his lover. She watched him in silence, her cheeks red with the evidence of her carnal pleasure.   
She seemed bewitched by the meticulousness and patience of his movements, while within him an inferno that no magic could have hoped to banish animated the mirror of her soul.  
With his eyes deeply anchored in hers, he began to tease her nipples with the tip of his tongue. The gentle pressure he exerted was only meant to lead her to the edge of the precipice. Only when Rosal'in complained slightly in frustration did he subtly increase the pressure.   
  
" _Vhenan_ , I beg you..." she implored him in a pleading tone, tears in her voice.   
  
For a few moments, Solas forsook the objects of his lust to revel in the enchanting vision that the Inquisitor had granted him. The torment he had imposed on his senses had finally overcome his natural complacency.   
  
"You are so beautiful when you beg me. " While his hands were busy unlacing her skirt, his lips closed around one of her nipples. He immediately began to suck on it nonchalantly, biting her sensitive and delicate flesh when he felt the urge to do so. It was only when it took on a pleasant reddish complexion that the mage stopped tormenting it. Her breasts certainly were exquisite, a delicacy he could never have imagined he would ever be able to claim, but faced with her dripping core, they appeared to be of lesser importance. Like the siren song inciting sailors to leave the safety of their ships for the sake of an insidious and murderous sea, the forbidden promises contained in her sex invited the Dread Wolf to the sweetest of surrenders. The latter knelt reverently before finishing to remove from his young disciple the last garment that robbed from his sight the charms that nature had given her.   
  
Rosal'in watched her skirt fall to the ground in a muffled rustle of fabric, barely aware of her nakedness. She only aspired to one thing, to be immolated on the altar of passion, no matter what the cost. In a burst of ardour, she placed a hand on the top of her lover's head, silently urging him to carry out his plan. She knew she would be reprimanded for her impetuosity. After all, that's what she was looking for. An iron hand in a velvet glove.   
  
Before he got between her thighs, Solas gave her an arrogant smile. He seemed to take a malicious pleasure in pushing her to her limits. "Spread your thighs, Inquisitor. "   
  
The Inquisitor unconsciously pursed her lips as she raised one of her thighs to place it on her mentor's shoulder. Her cheeks were ablaze with embarrassment. "Don't call me that. Not now."  
  
" _Ir abelas, emma lath (I'm sorry, my love.)_ " He gently kissed her inner thigh. "Allow me to repent. "   
  
His caresses were at first delicate, languidly soft as he suavely kissed her lips soaked with longing, surreptitiously teasing her clit with the tip of his tongue. He barely brushed it, applying enough pressure to make her bend under the obvious skill of his touch, but not sufficient to give her what she was craving so aggressively. The frantic movements of her hips against his mouth soon betrayed her growing impatience. She straddled his mouth with a fieriness that she had rarely manifested before during their lovemaking. Solas firmly grabs her ass to press her harder against him. She turned him on so much that his erection became painful.   
  
Rosa'lin abruptly threw her head back. The mage's fleshy mouth had just closed around her clitoris, which he now sucked greedily. The monastic silence in which the corridor was plunged was broken by a high-pitched moaning followed by a muffled growl. She trembled with euphoria, her body restless in spasms. Her voice was nothing more than an incoherent series of high-pitched sounds, each one more primary than the next. She wanted only one thing, to come. " _My lath..._ "   
  
" _Rosa'da'din sule emma'sal'in (come on my face), da'len._ " When he penetrated her again with his fingers, Solas' voice was unusually compelling, with a hoarse, almost animal tone. The sweet nectar flowing down her thighs made him lose his mind. At this precise moment he would have sacrificed any empire in her name. No matter what it had been, no matter what its past glory. Henceforth, only those two syllables counted, which she moaned almost unconsciously in her frenzy. Those two syllables which, like a credo, once the inquisitor's lips had been crossed, gave their lovemaking a consistent reality.   
  
"Solas!" As soon as her orgasm overwhelmed her, Rosal'in knew that the name of the apostate would in time to come resonate more than reason would allow in this room that was once secretly his. Never before had she experienced such pleasure. Leaning against the wall, she silently contemplated the dripping face of her lover who devoutly licked the last drops of her pleasure. Her fluids dripped at regular intervals from his chin, an eloquent testimony to the dexterity of his tongue.   
  
" _Mar rodhe ir'on (You are delicious)_ " His praise fell against her lips in a barely audible whisper as he placed a final kiss on them. She had a taste of sin. The one that leads to excess. The one that inspired in the humblest of men the fiercest and most devastating passion. She tasted like love.   
  
Solas slowly straightened himself up, aware of the state of dazedness to which his young lover was still subject. He could feel the last waves of her orgasm running through her body, the slightest touch causing her to jerk. With a tenderness that only souls in love can show, he drew her into his arms.   
  
"We've only just started and you're already unable to stand..." He remarked to her in a mocking tone while briefly combing his fingers through her hair.   
  
Rosal'in laughs discreetly, her face buried in the hollow of his neck. "Give me a few minutes, _Vhenan_. "   
  
He answered her request with a tender kiss on the top of her head. If they wanted to achieve their goal, he had to spare her. A few minutes passed without the two lovers speaking or making a gesture. The only thing that mattered was the presence of the other one, the contact of their skin and the warmth of their breath. They enjoyed the closeness that their respective roles prevented them from enjoying on a daily basis. A sudden knock on the door pulled them out of their amorous languor.   
  
"It would now be wiser to go to your quarters, Inquisitor. " The mage's tongue moved with graceful mischief around the last syllables he uttered. He knew full well that her title irritated her greatly, and he deliberately used it.   
  
Rosal'in pulled herself out of his embrace without bothering to note his provocation. She slowly bent over to pick up her blouse and skirt, her rounded buttocks highlighted by her natural arch. Her luscious lips stretched into a small satisfied smile as she walked towards her quarters with a feline gait. Before entering her room, she gave Solas a provocative eye contact. "Patience is not one of the inquisitor's virtues, Solas."   
  
It was Solas' turn to smile sufficiently. Without saying a word, he in turn took the stairs leading to his old quarters, feasting on the generous curves that the young Dalish liked to show him. She had waited until he was at her height before starting to climb the steps. Once he reached the top, he decided it was time to reprimand her for her provocative behaviour. After all, she wanted to be punished. Without an ounce of gentleness, he firmly grasped the delicate diaphanous skin of her hips.   
  
"I'm surprised that a little whore like you knows what virtue means, since you're a stranger to it... " One of his hands followed the curve of her hips, down towards her buttocks. "Do you like spanking, Rosal'in?"   
  
A pleasant sensation combining excitement and tenderness filled the Inquisitor as her cheeks turned pink with shyness again. His thoughtfulness never ceased to surprise her a little more each day.   
  
"Yes." She murmured in a sigh, like a sinner confessing her vices to a man of faith.   
  
"I didn't hear, _da'len._ "He had heard it. He simply wanted to push her to her limits.   
  
Rosal'in nervously chewed her lower lip. She could hear the frantic beating of her heart pounding against her chest. "... Yes, _Hahren_. "   
  
" _On da'lan (good girl)._ "   
  
The first spanking was firm but soft. A warning shot. She had hardly felt any pain at all. She clenched her fists and closed her eyes, her lips slightly ajar. A subtle tingling ran slowly across her slightly sore buttock before finishing its run between her thighs, which she unconsciously pressed together. It wasn't enough. "Harder, please... "   
  
A shiver of excitement ran down the mage's spine. "Your wish is my command, _Vhenan._ "  
  
When Solas spanked her for the second time, the impact of his hand on her buttocks resounded abruptly in the seigneurial suite, followed shortly afterwards by a high-pitched moaning that mixed pain and pleasure. Rosal'in's milky skin immediately took on a bright scarlet tinge, reminiscent of the tinted cream she applied to her mischievous lips every morning. An audacious red that nevertheless contradicted the discreet and reserved nature of the Inquisitor. At least that's what she claimed. Perhaps the trick was not in the lipstick, but in the attitude she had adopted every day since she was a child. He walked around her with wolf's pace, taking care to observe each of the reactions he seemed to be causing, before positioning himself in front of her and grasping her chin firmly. "Look at me."   
  
The authority with which he had addressed her immediately made her react. She hastened to respond to his order, shivering with excitement.   
  
"Such beautiful eyes." Slowly he began to trace the contours of her crimson mouth. "Ingenuous. " His thumb grazed her lower lip while he did not take his eyes off hers. " ... But with a fearsome temperament. " He slid his thumb up to the corner of her lips, carelessly spreading the lipstick there, before slightly opening her mouth. "On your knees."   
Rosal'in obeys again. The husky tone used by her lover made her shudder more than the unpleasant sensation of the rough carpet against the thin skin of her knees. She watched him take off his belts one by one, bewitched by his meticulous dexterity, his long, nimble fingers unbuckled and unravelled with ease the final finery that had ravished his nakedness from her. It wasn't the first time she had seen him naked, nor was it the first time they made love. It had been several months since they had consummated their union in the greatest secrecy.  
  
They had then left alone on a reconnaissance mission, leaving Varric and Cassandra behind, both exasperated by the rainy climate of the Storm Coast. Their secret could never have been preserved for so long if the Inquisitor had called on other companions. Every day she praised the Creators for having preferred Bianca's speed that day to Sera's. No sooner had they left the camp than a violent hurricane hit, preventing them from turning back. They found refuge in a small makeshift shelter, a house with a shaky roof, which Solas managed to stabilise with the help of a few spells. Each movement followed the last with disconcerting speed. A knowing glance, a few words exchanged over a hot meal, a hand on her waist, his lips on the back of her neck. Neither of them had been able to resist the warm intimacy that this little hut had given them for a night.   
  
" _Da'len_." His hand grazed her chin, calling her to her senses. Solas was now naked. His clothes lay carelessly at her feet as his erection stood proudly in front of her. The obscenity of the scene before her eyes made her unconsciously clench her thighs. She wanted it in her mouth. She wanted him to use her. As Rosal'in was about to take his sex in hand, he stopped her in her gesture, a bit of mischief in his eyes. "You thought your insolence would go unpunished? Open your mouth."   
  
And so she did. Caught in his bewitching gaze of celestial carnation, she was only waiting for one thing. For him to use her. To use her as he wished. Because for the first time in many months, she felt truly in control of her body and mind. Naked and on her knees in front of her lover, the wet tip of his cock against her lips, the Inquisitor felt more in control than ever. More so than when she sat on her throne to dispense justice. Her eyes rolled without her paying attention when he crossed her mouth.   
  
" _Itha fra em, Rosal'in. (Look at me)_ " The mage grabbed her braid once more, pulling a choked moan out of her. "Look at me if you want me to fuck your throat." Following these words, Solas soon began to move his pelvis to the jerky rhythm of his own breathing. Rosal'in wasn't the only one to lose control, victim of her ecstasy. The sensation of his sex in her throat prevented her from thinking, she could only feel. Feel her body fighting against this pleasant intrusion. The further he went, the more she loved it. The more she choked, the more she felt the inside of her thighs getting wet. Her saliva dripped down her chin, spreading her lipstick in its wake. At that moment she looked like something she had always abhorred out of modesty. A woman freed from the moralising yoke of society.   
  
The pressure that Solas exerted on her hair suddenly increased, forcing her to stand still. A few tears streamed down Rosal'in's pale cheeks as he surrendered to the delightful sensations that the constriction of her throat gave him. His sex immediately began to palpitate dangerously, threatening to spill its seed at any moment. As he felt his deliverance coming, he closed his eyes for a short moment to give himself a semblance of composure. The lustful expression of his young partner made him lose all means, all reasoning ability. A long moan of pleasure escaped him despite his efforts when he decided to withdraw delicately from her mouth.   
  
When he reopened his eyes, Rosal'in looked at him attentively, looking slightly worried, as if she feared she had made a mistake. "Did I hurt you? " Her voice was a little hoarse.   
  
The innocence with which she had inquired about his condition endeared Solas. "No, _da'len_. You were perfect." He accompanied his praise with a gentle caress on her cheek before beckoning her to come closer with a hand gesture. " _Ma're ma' on da'lan. (You are my good girl)_ "   
  
No sooner had he praised her than Rosal'in snuggled up against his thigh with pink cheekbones. She had never been so shy with her previous lovers. Was it because of their age difference or the taboo nature of their sexual practices? The inquisitor didn't know. An imperceptible and deep connection seemed to bind them since their eyes had first met. She could feel it growing day by day, just as she could feel her elder flattering her hair. She raised her head, her cheeks as rosy as before. Solas looked at her with a tender smile on his lips. "I think I've kept you waiting long enough, _Vhenan._ "   
  
He nodded at the imposing four-poster bed whose Antiva vermeil silks seemed to have been made only to honour their union in the most scandalous luxury. While the one he was about to honour in the most delightful way rose to the altar of passion, he took advantage of her inattention to grab her by the waist and lift her up. Two steps were enough for the mage to reach the bed and hastily lay her down. His self-control was challenged by the generous curves that his apprentice enjoyed displaying. All he could dream about now was abandoning himself between her tempting thighs. There he would forget who he was and what he was there for. He would forget the sacrifice he was about to make. Leave it to someone else. Solas stopped every gesture and contemplated his soul mate. He had stopped playing a long time ago. He delicately traced the contour of her vallaslins with his fingers before lovingly kissing her forehead. " _Vhenan..._ "   
  
" _Ma lath..._ " Rosal'in subtly traced the curve of his jaw with her lips, kissing every inch of skin she was allowed to reach. " _Sathan. (Please.)_ " She grabbed his hand to guide it to her crotch. "I can't wait any longer."   
  
This time, Solas was unable to restrain his impulses. She was soaked, ready to welcome him at any moment. To hell with his old chimeras, he wanted to make her his own right away, whatever it took. He adroitly freed himself from her embrace to regain the eye contact he had deliberately broken off a short while before. "Spread your thighs. _Mala. (Now.)_ "   
  
The inquisitor didn't react immediately to the order that her lover had just given her. It was the first time he had asked her verbally to offer herself physically to him. In this way, the carnal act seemed to take on a completely different dynamic. Although she was lying down with her thighs half spread apart, she was no longer passive, but active. When she would spread her thighs to allow him to take his pleasure, she would nevertheless remain the one in charge. That was why he never stopped looking her in the eyes when they played together in this way. If she wanted him to subdue her, she first had to be able to stand against him. Rosal'in grasps her thighs with great apprehension and brings them back to her waist before spreading them apart. The position she had just adopted was obscene. Never before had she revealed herself in this way to a man.   
  
From that moment on, the one when she decided to offer herself fully to him and his primary desires, everything became confused. It was as if the world outside the confines of their quarters had ceased to exist. Only the sensations remained; her narrowness, her groans, her nails in his flesh. They were greedy for each other, nothing seemed to satisfy them. The carnal deprivation to which they had been subjected every day since the beginning of their relationship had made them frenetic in their passion. That night they weren't making love, they were fucking. The bed, to the rhythm of Solas' strokes, banged noisily against the wall. Now there was no chance that their romantic getaway would go unnoticed.   
  
As the apostate held her thighs wide open, their respective groans intermingled in a concerto of voluptuous laments, mixing both high-pitched complaints and half-stifled grunts. Solas, so naturally non-expansive, moaned unrestrictedly in the ear of his apprentice. The hold she had on her mentor was beyond comprehension.   
  
" _Fenedhis, da'len_... _Ma ane so on sul em (you are so good to me.)_ " he groaned as he penetrated her deeply.   
  
His sudden intrusion made Rosal'in instinctively arch her back. She would soon no longer be able to resist her orgasm. But she wanted more. She wanted what he had never given her before. Her hands, which had until now been too busy exploring the alabaster body that providence had graced her with, vigorously grasped his sculpted buttocks to deepen the penetration further. Although already panting, they immediately moaned in concert.   
  
"Rosal'in, I won't be able to hold back if-"   
  
Her legs tied around his pelvis.   
  
"Don't hold back." She increased the pressure on his buttocks. " _Rosa'da'din in 'em, Hahren. (Come into me)_ "   
  
Solas had always been a reasonable and thoughtful man. At least that's what he liked to believe. Nevertheless, those few little words he never thought he would hear from his inquisitor proved him wrong. Without thinking for a second about the possible consequences of his actions, he began to pound her hard. His deep and vigorous penetrations brought them to orgasm without further ado. Rosal'in was the first to come. No matter how far she had abandoned herself in her immoral fantasies, the first thing she did when she felt her apotheosis coming was to intertwine her lover's fingers with her own. Solas, on the other hand, would not have been able to say what made him come. The delightful narrowness of his beloved, her pleasure that impregnated the slightest of her features, or her sudden surge of affection? Probably all three at the same time, he could not bring himself to choose one of them and thus abandon the others. Like a starving man, he ate up the slightest proof of love that she deigned to grant him.   
  
They agreed to separate only to take refuge under the warm blankets that were scattered all over the imposing inquisitorial bed. No sooner had the fire of passion been extinguished than the biting cold of the Frostback Mountains came back to them. With a brief gesture of the hand, Solas lit a fire in the hearth of the fireplace before drawing an already drowsy Rosal'in against him. The corners of his lips rose up without him paying attention. Had he already experienced such intimacy in his younger years? The Dread Wolf had had many conquests despite his hermit-like appearance and his propensity for erudition, which sometimes made him appear haughty. But none of his former partners had managed to penetrate his millennia-old heart as this young dalish with such singular eyes had done. The ancient elves used to say that the eyes were the mirror of the soul, that emotions and the deep nature of an individual could be seen in them. In spite of the inquisitor's great youth, her eyes seemed to tell stories of the past. The story of a remote time when a little boy discovered his magical gifts with wonder on the shores of the Arlathan forest. In her eyes danced the vestiges of his country, his home, and it was time to return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for taking the time to read my work! Now that this little alternative story is over, I can finally get back to writing my main fanfiction, "String Theory". I warmly encourage you to go read it if you liked my work. :)

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked it, I might do a second chapter ;)


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